


A Lovely Christmas Steve

by Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America - Freeform, Christmas fic, F/M, freshly thawed, pre-avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction/pseuds/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction
Summary: You run a small used bookstore in New York. Because it’s a family-owned business you inherited from your parents (that they inherited from theirs, and so on), you manage to stay afloat even though your business has been declining over the years. You adore the little shop and wouldn’t trade it for the world. One day, a tall blond man comes in and changes your life forever.





	A Lovely Christmas Steve

**Author's Note:**

> A request from Tumblr: @zalemoonshadow asked: Hello i love your fic’s their so wholesome and sweet! my request is that Steve wonders into a barns&nobles and buy’s a manga(he thought the cover looked cool) and he makes a new friend just a sweet little fic bonding over manga.

[Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh](https://tmblr.co/Zj1kBx2NZ9ltx)

You were in the back, cataloguing and assessing your newest acquisitions, when the bell above the door jangled out merrily, signaling the arrival of a customer.

“I’ll be right out!” you called through the doorway, hurriedly placing the book you’d been assessing onto an already teetering pile. You trotted out, glancing through the aisles for the person you’d heard come in, stopping dead in your tracks when you finally spotted him.

He was huge; Easily six feet tall with shoulders like Atlas himself. What a giant like him was doing in your tiny bookshop was beyond you; you usually got quiet teens, poor college students (hipsters, mostly), and grandmas. He was far from the usual type of customer you got.

Once the initial shock had worn off you cleared your throat quietly. He started, surprised, and glanced over his shoulder, relaxing when he laid eyes on you.

You, however, tensed up again. He was gorgeous. All sharp lines and soft blue eyes. The baseball cap he was wearing couldn’t hide the golden hair peeking out from under the rim.

You must have been staring too long; it was his turn to politely clear his throat, a light dusting of pink coating his cheeks.

“Oh, uh. Hello!” _Very articulate, (Y/N). Good job. Ugh._ “Welcome to my shop! If you have any questions or if you’re looking for anything in particular, I’d be happy to help!” you said, putting on a kind smile.

He returned the smile and you realized his teeth were just as perfect as the rest of him.

_Damn._

“Thanks.”

There was a pause where the two of you just smiled at each other like awkward idiots. Then, he glanced down at the book in his hands and you realized you probably shouldn’t just stand there and stare at him like a creeper.

“If you need me, I’ll be at the front desk,” you said, turning to make a hasty retreat to the other side of the store. Maybe if you were as quiet as possible he might forget how awkward you’d been just now and actually come back again.

You’d only made it a step or two, though, when he spoke up again.

“Actually, I…”

You paused and turned back to face him, polite smile on your face and an eyebrow raised in question. “Yes?”

He held up the book he was holding and, upon closer inspection, you realized it was a volume of manga. “I… I can’t make heads or tales of this,” he said, sounding a bit defeated.

You chuckled and walked over, trying to ignore exactly how close the two of you were now. “What part, exactly?” you asked, taking a peek at the page he had open.

He let out a sigh. “All of it, I guess? What they’re saying just… doesn’t make sense…” he said despondently.

You glanced at the book, to him, then back at the book in confusion. Then, suddenly it clicked.

“Have you ever read manga before?” you asked curiously.

He went a little stiff and shook his head. “Can’t say I have… is that what this is?” he asked, holding up the offending book.

You nodded, biting back a smile. “They’re Japanese comics. They read backwards, by our normal standards- right to left. I’m guessing you probably started from the back without realizing it,” you said, flipping the book over to show him the front.

He turned an adorable shade of pink and you knew right then it was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen.

“That would explain it…” he said, eyeing the book as though it had called him a rude name.

“May I?” you asked hesitantly, pointing to the book.

He smiled at you, nodded and handed the book over. “Yeah, of course.”

You opened it to a random page with a decent amount of speech bubbles. You took a step closer so he’d be able to see better, and pointed out exactly how to read in the correct order. “Top to bottom, just like American comics, but right to left instead of left to right,” you said, glancing up at him. He was staring at the book with almost _too much_ concentration. It was adorable.

“So you’d start here, work to here, then this panel, then this one-”

“Then here?” he asked, pointing to the next speech bubble.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you got it!”

He smiled. It was a small, shy thing that made you want to hug him… which was ridiculous. He was a grown man- a huge one at that! 

“Thank you-” he glanced down at the small name tag pinned onto your shirt “-(Y/N),” he said earnestly.

“My pleasure, sir,” you said with a smile, heart thudding in your chest.

“Oh, ‘Steve’ is fine,” the man said abashedly.

“Steve, then! If you need anything else, just ask. I won’t be far!” you said shyly, giving him another smile before you made a quick escape down the aisle. You didn’t see, but he was smiling at you until you were out of his sight. Even then, his grin didn’t fade as he perused your books.

You willed yourself to calm down as you went to other aisles. You picked books up off the ground (kids and parents these days- sheesh!), put them back in their correct spots, and adjusted your holiday decorations. Brooklyn was such a melting pot that you kept your decorations vague but festive, not celebrating one faith in particular.

You were halfway through re-shelving the return cart when Steve popped up at the end of your aisle. The shelves in your shop were tall (you had footstools everywhere) so you hadn’t seen him coming, but he took up so much space that your gaze immediately snapped to him. He was so quiet you hadn’t heard him coming- you wondered idly how a man of his size could move so stealthily.

“What’s up?” you asked kindly, placing the book you’d been holding back onto the cart.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “There are a lot of options… I was kind of hoping…”

“…I could give you some recommendations?” you supplied helpfully.

He nodded, shoulders sagging a little in relief at your understanding.

You smiled and nodded and walked over to him. “We still looking at manga?” you asked cheerfully.

He nodded and walked over to the comic book aisle, with you following just a step behind.

He stopped when he got close and you walked past him and began eyeing the shelves for the volumes you were looking for. Your selection was pretty good, as far as a used book shop went. You had even more shelves in the back room practically buckling under the weight of duplicates; people just didn’t buy books like they used to and you had trouble moving merchandise.

You plucked a few first volumes of a couple of series out, piling them in your arms as you went. Steve eyed you curiously while you worked, craning his neck a bit to see them over your shoulder. By the time you reached the end of the aisle you had a small collection to choose from.

You turned to look at him and he tried very hard to not look like he’d just been staring curiously over your shoulder (he failed). You smiled up at him and placed the pile precariously on the edge of the shelf.

“Alright, first up we have Fullmetal Alchemist. It’s a story about two brothers who perform alchemy- changing one thing to another. One lost his whole body in an alchemic reaction gone wrong and the other lost an arm and a leg. They try to make a philosophers stone to restore their bodies, but meet some dangerous people and uncover some dangerous secrets along the way,” you said, as you held the volume out for him to take.

“Huh,” he muttered as he eyed it warily and took it from you. He flipped through the pages a bit then tucked it under his arm after a moment and nodded for you to continue.

“This is Dragon Ball! It has a huge cult following and it’s been around for years. It’s what inspired the show Dragon Ball Z. You follow this dude named Goku on his quest to collect the seven Dragon Balls which, once assembled, grant any wish. Of course there are bad guys who want the wish, so he’s constantly fighting against them while on his quest. It’s a classic,” you said, staring fondly at the beaten cover.

“Interesting. It’s well known, you said?” You nodded and handed it to him. He once again flipped through the pages and, after a moment, placed it under his arm.

You smiled. “If you don’t like any of the things I’m suggesting, feel free to say so. I picked ones I thought might be nice for beginners… and aren’t 40+ volumes long,” you said.

His eyes bugged out a little bit and he eyed the shelf of manga for the longer series you mentioned, causing you to chuckle. “Oh yeah, Bleach, Naruto, One Piece, Fairy Tail- those are all super long series that would take you a month and several hundred dollars to read through,” you said with a smile.

He seemed to have trouble processing this and you took pity on him by returning to the pile you’d chosen for him.

“This is a newer one, but easily one of my favorites. It’s called Horimiya. It’s more romantically centered, following the tale of Hori and Miyamura and their time in high school. He’s a quiet nerdy-looking kid and she’s a smart, popular girl who has no social life because she always has to take care of her brother because her parents are workaholics. Lo and behold Miyamura only dresses like a nerd to hide his tattoos and piercings and is actually funny and normal. He discovers Hori’s secret and they make a pact to keep each other’s secrets… and their relationship grows from there,” you said, eyes practically shining with excitement as you eyed the pair on the cover.

Steve looked a little more dubious about that one, but took it from you anyway, not bothering to flip through the pages this time. You tried not to let that get to you- to each their own, after all.

“Alright, the last one is Gintama. And I know I said I would stay away from the longer ones, but this one is just too hilarious to leave out and doesn’t fall into the other traps the others do. It’s about Gintoki Sakata and his friends, Shinpachi Shimura and Kagura. They run around and complete random tasks to pay their rent. It’s set in the Edo period but the writer makes the story his own by adding aliens as part of the setting,” you said, holding the book out for him to take.

He eyed it, glancing up at you warily. “How many volumes?”

You winced guiltily. “71… I think?”

Steve blanched. “71… as in… 71 of these?” he asked, poking the cover.

You nodded sheepishly.

He stared at you, then at the book, then back at you… then back at the book. Wordlessly, he took it from your hand and shoved it under his arm.

You smiled tentatively up at him and he returned it shyly. The two of you stood there like that for a moment, smiling like a couple of idiots, before he seemed to snap out of his daze. He pointed up at the ceiling with his free hand. “There still a reading lounge upstairs?” he asked curiously.

You nodded, brain working overtime at his phrasing. _“Still”_? You were sure he’d never been in here before. You never skipped a day of work and you were sure you would have noticed a specimen such as him immediately. “Yeah, upstairs, back right corner,” you said, smiling at him.

He shuffled awkwardly to the stairs, progress hampered because he kept glancing back at you. Once he walked straight into a footstool and nearly bit it he started paying attention to where he was going. You watched his progress from the end of the aisle, biting back a chuckle as he righted himself. He nodded awkwardly at you and turned a bright red, which only had you grinning wider, and held his books up as if to say _“it’s alright, the books are fine”_ and hastily made his way up the spiral staircase that led to the second floor of your store.

You watched him go until you couldn’t even see his feet anymore, grin not leaving your face. He was an odd one, that was for sure, but a damn charming one, in his own way.

You shelved some more books and when it was clear he wasn’t coming back down immediately, you made yourself and him some hot cocoa. You used milk from the tiny fridge behind the desk and it was only when you were halfway up the stairs- steaming mugs in hand- that it occurred to you that he might be lactose intolerant. You just simply hoped that wasn’t the case as you made your way determinedly to the back corner where all of the old, worn couches and bean bag chairs were. A few of the arm chairs had been there since the shop had opened (your parents had reupholstered them simply because they were too nostalgia-inducing for them to feel alright with throwing them out).

Steve spotted you the second you rounded the corner, glancing up from the volume of Fullmetal Alchemist to you.

“Hey there,” you said quietly, giving him a small smile, which he returned shyly.

“Hey.”

“I thought you might like some hot chocolate? I made it with milk so if you’re lactose intolerant, it might not be the best idea…” you said as you walked over to him.

He shook his head, smile on his face. “I’m not, and I’d love some. Thank you very much,” he said graciously, carefully taking the mug from you. You let out a sigh of relief and took a sip from your mug.

You instantly regretted it. It was still scalding. You forced it down, but your eyes watered and the second it was gone you began coughing. Steve jumped up with more grace than you’d seem him possess thus far and placed the book and mug carefully onto the tiny table next to his chair. His hands hovered just inches away from you, unsure of what to do.

“Are you alright?” he asked concernedly.

You couldn’t talk just yet but nodded, cheeks hot with embarrassment… and also a lack of air.

He relaxed a bit, but remained standing, ready to spring into action if the need arose.

Eventually, though, you managed to catch your breath and sent him a thankful smile.

“How are you enjoying the books?” you asked, nodding your heads towards the volumes on the chair next to him.

He smiled and sat back down and you followed suit, which- if you weren’t mistaken- made him smile even wider. “They’re great. I think Fullmetal Alchemist might be my favorite, but I haven’t gotten through them all yet,” he said quietly.

You nodded, smiling at how your choices had been to his liking.

He looked at the floor for a moment and seemed to gather his courage, then looked up at you. “Could you… tell me about it?”

You paused blowing on your hot chocolate to raise an eyebrow at him. “Fullmetal? Or one of the other series?” you inquired.

He shifted nervously, which made you even more curious. “Manga. In general,” he explained. “You already told me it’s from Japan… but that’s about all I know about it.”

You studied him over the rim of your mug, your questions about the man only growing by the second, but you eventually nodded. “I’m not an expert. Manga is from Japan. The word’s been around for a couple hundred years. Manga’s been around for longer than that, though. It started spreading in the 1950′s- I know the french are huge readers of manga- and it became more common by the 80′s but wasn’t really widely accepted until more recently; the early 2000′s, I think.”

Steve had been nodding along to your explanation, paying close attention, eating up every word. When you finished your gaze returned to him (it had wandered while you thought and talked) and you felt your cheeks heat with the intensity of his gaze and you quickly glanced away again.

“Why, what’s got you so interested?” you asked, glancing at him.

He shifted nervously. “I… I missed out on a few things, just trying to catch up.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, and at his evasiveness. “Did you go somewhere without the internet or something?” you asked curiously. Maybe he wasn’t from here? But his accent was definitely Brooklyn.

“Something like that…” he muttered, eyes suddenly far away.

You realized how nosy you’d been and rushed to rectify the situation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry. S’not my place. I’ll leave you to it,” you said, smiling at him as you got up and made a beeline for the stairs.

“Wait!”

You froze, nearly spilling your hot chocolate because of your sudden halt. You turned your head to stare at him over your shoulder, gaze filled with trepidation.

“I was wondering… if you’re not busy… maybe we could… talk more?” he asked, turning that heartbreakingly adorable shade of pink again.

You smiled, thankful you hadn’t offended him or scared him off, and went slowly back to the lounge area and took a seat next to him again.

“I’m yours until that door bell rings,” you said with a smile.

* * *

[Originally posted by thexschaschristmas](https://tmblr.co/ZKOtLg2RX-fg3)

Over the next few weeks Steve came in and out more often than not. It was the second week after you met him that you learned about his past and why he liked to come to your shop so much.

As it turned out, he had come here a lot back in the thirties and forties. Apparently it was pretty similar to how he remembered it; he even sat in the same seat he used to. It was a piece of the past and those were, apparently, pretty hard to come by.

He confessed your shop had become something of a safe haven for him. The two of you would talk for hours, only pausing so that you could help a customer now and again.

By the time Christmas rolled around, it seemed like the obvious thing to invite him over for dinner. The both of you would spend it alone, otherwise, and if you were being honest with yourself, you simply wanted to. The Captain had worked his way into your heart and only a blind person- or Steve- wouldn’t be able to see it, but you didn’t mind.

No, when you opened the door to your apartment and Steve was standing there, looking unfairly cozy in a hideous Christmas sweater, you didn’t care if he was the most oblivious man on the planet. All that mattered was making his first Christmas in nearly seventy years memorable.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he said with a bright smile as he pulled you into a hug.

Your stomach did a flip and you wrapped your arms around his thick waist, huge smile on your face. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”


End file.
